A Lie Can Be Truth As Long As It Is Believed To Be So
by SecretScreaming
Summary: Sometimes no one can tell when you're hurting the most. And sometimes they only find the truth through coincidence. But when the truth is revealed, is there enough time to still stop the damage that has been done? TW: attempted suicide, self harm
1. Chapter 1

It's amazing how easily someone can swallow a lie when they don't have the time or the effort to care enough about finding the truth. The way he could soothe everyone's thoughts but his own by making believe that the world was still a place of beauty, that dreams could exist and flourish in the light of day and not fear the crushing weight of reality. It had been a little over two months since he had lost his job, and yet his closest friends all still believed that the restaurant was where he spent most of his free time, not bothering to take a step back and look at the mess he had become. They merely believed his words when he said everything was ok, that he was just too busy to see anyone, when the truth couldn't be further from the matter. Even Zoro hadn't pressed the matter, just calmly accepting that the blonde was bailing on another date night to "work" even when Sanji's heart screamed for the green haired bastard to come to his side, to save him from his own mind. But Sanji knew that there was no reason for anyone to suspect that he was suffering deeply, he had given no indication that he was on a dangerously dark path or how lost he had become these past two months. He knew this charade had to come to an end sooner or later but he remained stranded in limbo, torn by the disappointment he could already imagine on his friends faces and in their voices. He was nothing anymore, a meaningless existence that demanded an even more meaningless end to escape the failure of what he had become, of what he had allowed himself to become. The backlight of his phone lit up again as the unaware chef made his way to the bathroom, ignorant to the marimo's arrival but well aware of his own selfish intentions. This was no way to live and the blonde wanted out.

Zoro pulled off his helmet and drug his fingers through his hair, ripping through a few light knots as he stared up at the Baratie, eager to finally see the curly browed cook after so long apart. The blonde had been dodging him for some time and, while it seemed a bit suspicious, the swordsman knew that he had no reason to doubt the words of his friend. But when he asked to speak with the chef, the wait staff gave him several uncomfortable looks before calling Chef Zeff over to speak privately with him. As Zeff recounted how the blonde had been fired several month earlier due to sexual harassment allegations waged against him by a customer, Zoro grew still and fear began to prickle uncomfortably in the back of his mind and heart. Something was terribly wrong here. All the avoided phone calls and canceled plans, how the chef had meticulously been avoiding everyone and playing it off as if he was insanely busy. He didn't bother to listen to the rest of Zeff's words, instead choosing to slam down a 20$ for the information, jog outside to snatch his helmet off the handle of his motorbike and pray he still could get himself to Sanji's apartment building.

Several u-turns later, the marimo found himself in the vicinity of the chef's apartment and quickly parked his bike in order to once again ask for directions from a stranger who gestured at a small run-down building right down the street from where he was. Knowing he couldn't become lost if he locked eyes on the target, he beelined it for the building with thoughts swirling chaotically inside of his head. Why would Sanji lie to him, to everyone about still having his job at Baratie? Why would he cancel plans to hang out by claiming he had to work when there was no work to be done? Why couldn't Zoro calm the alarm bells ringing deep within him, telling him that something was terribly wrong about this whole situation? Apprehension prickled at the nape of his neck and he almost ran to Sanji's door, forgoing the gentle knock and instead choosing to pound loudly on the door, silently begging the door to open and grant him a glimpse of the blonde's carefree smile, but his knocks continued unanswered. He glanced at his phone but could see the messages had only been delivered, not read. All that confirmed was that Sanji's phone was on, but unattended, worrying the swordsman even further.

"Sanji, open the fucking door. We need to talk about Baratie NOW." His poundings only got louder and more than one pissed off neighbor came outside to bitch about the noise before eventually becoming fed up with being poignantly ignored and retreating back within their own apartments. Zoro tried to call him but, upon hearing the muted jingle of the chef's ringtone through the door, his fear and anger reached a new, intolerable level.

"You have until the count of ten before I knock this fucking door down out of its frame, Sanji. This isnt a fucking joke, asshole." Zoro began to slowly count out loud, mentally willing the chef to come to the door, to show him he was ok. But when he reached zero and no noises could be heard from within the apartment, Zoro made the split second decision to slam himself into the door as hard as he could, wood splintering beneath him before he fell through the newly opened doorway into a stuffy dark hallway. The smell of sadness and booze was almost tangible in the air and as the green haired man gently spoke the chef's name aloud, he had to question whether the man was even home. Until he saw the small droplets of crimson on the floor and the bloodied handprint smeared on the edge of the bathroom doorway, only partially visible from where he stood and the blood in Zoro's veins ran cold. He seemed to watch himself walk up to the bathroom, saw himself gaze in through the crack in the door and heard the gasping cry that forced its way out of him at the sight that lay before him.

Blood seemed to be everywhere, the countertop, the toilet handle, but most of it was concentrated inside of the tub where Sanji's clothed body lay still. His left wrist was dyed a deep scarlet from two long ragged cuts down the edges of his tendons and Zoro could see hie blood steadily pulsating and oozing out before dripping into the ever reddening bath water. Zoro's hands shook violently as he wandered to the tub's edge and dropped to his knees, afraid to touch the blonde lest it confirm his worst nightmare. But as he kneeled frozen on the floor, he could hear the soft staggered breaths struggling to continue being pulled in by Sanji and his phone was to his ear faster than he could even process his actions. Sanji needed an ambulance, and he needed one fast.

He tried to maintain his composure with the 911 operator, relaying their address and insisting upon the urgency of the situation but as the call ended, the phone slipped from his hand and cracked against the bathroom tile as he sunk back to his knees beside the tub. He did his best to apply a tourniquet to the blonde's arm and gently held Sanji's uninjured hand to his cheek, as small sobs began to emerge from deep within him. If only he could have known how much the chef had been hurting these last couple months, if only he had come to visit sooner, had learned the truth sooner. But he knew as much as he was hurting inside, the chef had to be hurting even worse to have done something as desperate as this. Pleading for the ambulance to hurry up, he slipped his arms underneath the underweight chef's torso and knees, lifting him gently from his cold water prison and curling his wet, chilled body against the swordsman's chest in a tight fearful grip.

By the time the ambulance arrived and emergency workers got the blonde safely settled in for the ride to the hospital, something had broken inside of Zoro. He could no longer control the sobs that racked through his chest and threatened to split his heart into fractured slivers of pain. He could have done something but didn't. He could have tried to see Sanji's pain and had instead chosen to pretend everything was fine when it clearly wasn't. Zoro continued to sob until the emptiness threatened to overwhelm him, his eyes burning from the tears and his mind almost blank and clouded. His tears ran dry but the raucous sobs still tore their way out of his chest every few moments.

Things were not ok.


	2. Chapter 2

It was the harsh glare of fluorescent lighting that first greeted Sanji upon awakening, his thoughts muddled and sluggish as he absently gazed about the room around him, a sharp contrast to the oppressive darkness that had settled upon his apartment. His peripherals began to blur and he could feel the hot tears of disappointment and regret running unabashed down his cheeks as he came to understand his surroundings and their implications of his failure. He hadn't been able to escape, to make the world flow on in the endless stream of time without him, instead finding himself confined to a shitty uncomfortable hospital bed, his clothes replaced with an ill-fitting light blue unisex gown that barely went down to his knees. It wasn't until he rolled his head to the side and looked to the right of his bedside that his blood ran cold and his heart seemed to stutter in his throat as he took in the marimo's crinkled sleeping face, worry etched deep into his features.

Warm tanned arms encircled the blonde's right forearm, a gentle cradle on top of which lay the swordsman's rough wind-blown locks, now thoroughly tousled from stress and sleep, his soft even breaths tickling against the lightly colored hairs of Sanji's arm. A smile briefly graced the corners of his mouth as he watched the swordsman sleeping, but it was wiped away in an instant as the door to the room creaked open, revealing the middle aged balding nurse who had come to check on him. The sudden sound of movement alerted the swordsman and he sat up with a start, his eyes locking onto the curly browed idiot's tear stained features and, before he could even process the action, his arms were already slipped around the blonde, dragging him into a deep embrace. Sanji could feel the trembling of Zoro's hands as he closed his eyes, not bothering to lift his own arms in return, although he desperately wanted to. He was well aware that he had hurt the green haired bastard with his actions, but as the marimo pulled back in order to let the nurse do a quick examination, he couldn't shake the nagging questions that still floated unanswered in the back of his mind.

Why was the swordsman here? And, for that matter, why was Sanji here? He had been positive that the wounds were deep enough to ensure the cessation of his life, that no one should have even known his plans or course of actions, and yet here he lay very much alive. Sanji struggled to try to recall anything being amiss before he had lost consciousness, but all he could remember was the searing pain fading into a dull throbbing as he'd stumbled into the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind himself. Never one to wish to be found naked after death, he had bothered to kept his clothes on when he sank into the warm water of the bath, a hiss slipping between his teeth as the ragged cuts stung sharply when submerged. He hadn't liked how the pain was sharp in his mind, keeping him mildly alert of his surroundings so he had settled on resting his arm on the tubs edge and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall into the endless slumbering embrace of death. And yet here was, alive and well in the caring hands of professionals who had probably seen more than their fair share of cases like his.

Sanji risked a glance at Zoro after the nurse had stepped out of the room and found himself trapped in the soul-wrenching gaze of the swordsman's one good eye, agonizing worry and unabashed relief storming behind his steely visage. His heart slammed heavily in his chest, weighed down with guilt and regret and he diverted his gaze off to the side, tears prickling shamefully in the corners of his eyes. A gentle hand grazed over his cheek and the ex-chef closed his eyes, unable to bring himself to glance back into the swordsman's ever saddening gaze as the question stole quietly past his lips.

"Who... you know...?" The blonde failed to elaborate further, bracing himself for the incoming answer, but Zoro could clearly feel the implications of the question settling heavily in the room. His good eye slid shut, images of Sanji's bloodied form laying near still in his arms haunting his thoughts as he forced himself to answer the question.

"Me."

With a single word from the marimo, Sanji could feel his resolve crumbling to pieces, but it seemed the swordsman hadn't finished besieging the blonde with guilty despair.

"I... I spoke with Zeff..." A pained gasp tore its way out of the ex-chef's chest and his blue eyes darted to Zoro's, searching for the answer to a question he already knew the answer to. The green haired bastard knew his secret, knew he hadn't had his job for quite some time now, knew that he had been constantly lying through his teeth about his busy schedule, knew he had been wallowing alone in that wretched apartment filled with sad shadows of his former life. His vision blurred as the shameful tears that had threatened to fall earlier found their way down his cheeks, the final crack in the dam of his turmoiled emotions and, with a choking sob, everything broke. Pain filled wails filled the air as Sanji openly cried, feeling wave after wave of hopeless despair and regret crash over himself.

He could sense Zoro reaching out to pull the blonde in close, but couldn't bring himself to allow such comforting actions, instead choosing to curl up on his left side, arms desperately clutching at the opposite shoulders as he shook with agonizing sobs. He hadn't even noticed the pain of his stitches ripping until the marimo noticed the blood smearing on his hospital gown and slammed down on the nurse's call button before gently trying to calm the blonde. He didn't notice the nurse entering the room, nor did he feel the sedative injection he was subsequently given, but he did feel the effects of the shot as he slowly stopped sobbing long enough to slip into unconsciousness, unaware of Zoro's pained steely gaze that watched his face forcibly relax.

After the nurses had succeeded in subduing the anguished ex-chef, Zoro settled back down into his chair and watched as they skillfully replaced the stitch and replaced the blood soaked bandage with a fresh clean wrapping after thoroughly sanitizing the wound. He had been sure his heart would pop when he saw Sanji awake but he cursed aloud as he realized he shouldn't have answered the fragile blonde's questions so early on, not after what had happened. A quiet knock at the door brought him back to reality as the young face of his friend and doctor, Chopper, peered through the cracked entryway. He walked slowly over to the bed, taking in Sanji's unconscious form before taking hold of the chart hanging from the end of the bed, flipping through the pages silently. The tension in the room felt palpable as the young doctor continued to read the chart, glancing sadly at Zoro every so often before he replaced the chart on the end of the bed and went to check Sanji's vitals for safe measure. It was Chopper who broke the silence after seeing Zoro bury his face in his palms, unable to keep himself from checking on a struggling close friend.

"I know that I can't fix this, but is there anything I can do for you? I hate seeing you both like this... Seeing Sanji like... _this_..." Chopper cut off, his eyes filling with tears almost as fast as he was able to wipe them away. It was a good moment before he was able to gain enough composure to finish his words. "He's on a mandatory 72-hour hold until we can determine if he is a safe enough state of mind to be released but..." Chopper paused again, eye flitting over the unmoving swordsman's tense form before continuing. "I don't want him going back home to that apartment... He can't be left alone, not when he's been damaged this much..."

Zoro could sense the young doctor's concern, feeling it reflect his own sentiments on the matter at hand as he quickly reached a decision of his own.

"Don't worry, Chopper." Zoro begun softly. "He won't be alone." Their eyes met and mutual understanding arched between them. "When he gets out of here, Sanji will be staying with me for as long as needs be."

 **Thank you guys so much for reading and reviewing this story :)**  
 **I will work on getting the next chapter out as fast as possible, but I greatly look forward to reading your comments!**


	3. Chapter 3

"Fuck off, shitty Marimo, I'm not staying over at your boozy ass excuse of an apartment."

Sanji glared defiantly into Zoro's insistantly cool gaze, his own oceanic blue eyes reflecting discomfort and anger at the mere suggestion of needing a babysitter. They had been going back and forth about this for well over an hour at this point but with Sanji's impending hospital release tomorrow, Zoro had gotten oddly insistent that the ex-chef stay with him. He knew he was being stubborn but he'd be damned if he was going to be subjected to the constant supervision of such an unbelievable idiot, personal savior or not. He hadn't asked to be rescued from himself and he sure as hell wasn't going to let the green haired bastard subject him to the humiliation of being excessively watched over by that troubled pitying grey eye of his. That eye which, if looks could kill, would have flayed his skin off and had him spit-roasted over a campfire with the amount of malevolence it currently exuded.

"Well you sure as fuck aren't about to go back to your own damn crime scene of an apartment, or did you manage to forget that you essentially painted the walls and carpet in your own damn blood?" Zoro wanted to punch himself in the face but his callous words kept spewing from his mouth unabated, his anger at the blonde's constant refusals making his words come out far harsher than he had intended for them to be. He had promised Chopper, and somewhere along the line he'd wound up promising himself the same thing, that he would keep Sanji safe this time, that he wouldn't allow him to sink back down into the dark hell he had been trapped in before.

Sanji shot him an incredulous look before his expression darkened, the reality of the situation at hands sinking back in. He likely wasn't going to be allowed to return home anytime soon and, with a tsk of disappointment, he realized that when he did eventually return, there would be quite a mess to clean up after himself. His mind trailed off into a distant emptiness for a moment at the thought, but he caught himself before the shadows could firmly grasp his thoughts as he saw Zoro's face shift yet again in worry in response to the dull, soulless mask the blonde had momentarily donned. The green haired bastard had been making that same shitty face at him for several days now, its uncharacteristic nature managing to both unsettle Sanji's nerves and piss him off more than words could express more each time it appeared. He wanted to smear the bastard's face into the floor, eager to wipe the offending expression off Zoro's features permanently, but unfortunately violent outbursts seemed to be frowned upon in medical settings, especially when you're in the psychiactric ward.

With a slight shake of his head, he attempted to fully clear his head as his own slender fingers found their way through oily, flaxen locks, a reminder that he hadn't been able to truly wash his hair in several days and rinsing his head under the hospital bathroom's faucet wasn't working very well. At least if he went to stay with the swordsman for a few days he had the remote possibility of finally getting to take a proper shower, an idea which was tempting him to be inclined towards abandoning his previous stubborn refusals and accepting Zoro's offer. It would only be a few days at most, he could just sleep on the couch and be off on his way to his own apartment later. His eyes shifted from the sheets to Zoro's eye, caught off guard for a fraction of a second when their eyes met, blue and grey locked in an intense stare as Sanji responded.

"Fine, you know what? Since you've so _generously_ offered, I'll just be in your hair for a little while until I can get my apartment cleaned and repainted, but don't think this means I'm just going to sit around and be constantly watched over." He paused, his hands absently reaching for his chest pocket before remembering he wasn't in his usual suit and tie and that Chopper had confiscated his cigarettes earlier, yelling at him about how hospital policies forbade smoking. His gaze flickered over to the swordsman, eyes as he continued.

"I presume your apartment is smoker friendly..?

 **Sorry this chapter is so short, my original idea for this chapter turned out to be waaaay too long so I decided to break it apart. Next chapter will be a good bit longer than this one so stay tuned! I look forward to your reviews and opinions :)**


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing that hit him as he walked through the apartment's doorway was just how _huge_ Zoro's kitchen was. It had to be around 300 sq ft in size at least, its excessive bounty of bare counter space almost begging to be filled with culinary masterpieces and Sanji shifted uncomfortably as the all too familiar urges stirred up inside, his hands itching for the release cooking brought about. His hands curled restlessly as he desperately tried to quell the longing to return to his previous occupation. Sanji's gaze dropped to the floor in an attempt to distract himself and found himself slightly taken aback by how clean it was until he saw the small trail of droplets leading to a heap of trash and emptied booze bottles piled neatly into the corner of the room.

The second thing that hit him was the smell, a foul musky odor of sweat and booze, as well as the floral scent of air freshener and household cleaners. A smirk flitted across his lips at the thought of the green haired bastard rushing to make his apartment appear clean for the blonde's arrival, but he felt the smirk slowly slide off his face as he wandered from the kitchen into the living room. His curled eyebrows shot up as his gaze wandered back and forth from the barren room and Zoro's expressionless form, trying to reconcile his temporary sleeping arrangements in his head.

"Oi, Zoro," Sanji started, his eyes warily darting around the nearly empty room, "Where the fuck is your couch?" Along with the lack of couch, he noticed a very distinct lack of any type of decorative furniture, the only things in the room appearing to just be a large exercise mat with a series of ordered weights laying on top. The carpet had obviously not been vacuumed recently, a fine layer of dust liberally graced the far corner of the room, abandoned and neglected by its unattentive owner with only a small handful of disrupted shoe prints here and there. Apprehension grew unsteadily inside him, Sanji had been planning to stay on the couch in order to minimize the amount of space he occupied but shooting a quick look at Zoro nonchalant shrug only seemed to confirm his suspicions.

"Never bothered to get one. No need. Why, what's the problem?" Sanji's eyebrows shot up high in disbelief as he stared at the shitty marimo. He'd always known Zoro to be a bit dense but there was no way he could be _this_ dense, the swordsman's unaffected attitude just serving to piss off the blonde further and he could feel his teeth grit together in anger as he struggled to maintain control over his face and tone. After all, Zoro had been the one to invite him over, it's not like he wouldn't have made the necessary preparations for the blonde to actually stay, right?

"The problem is where the fuck you expect me to sleep, dumbass. I understand you enjoy living like a damn caveman but not everyone wants to lay down on the floor all the time like you seem to enjoy if this," —his hand swept out over the room, devoid of anything besides the mat and weights— "tells you anything at all about your nature." Zoro scowled angrily, his steel grey eye locked onto Sanji's cerulean orbs, his forehead furrowing at the insult and heavy sarcasm tinting his voice when he responded.

"Your _royal highness_ will be sleeping in my bed, I usually don't even bother sleeping there, it's too cushiony and soft for me to get comfortable." He paused, scratching his head as he tried to pretend not to notice the furious glare Sanji fixed him with before continuing. "The sheets are clean by the way." Sanji rolled his eyes at the marimo, a sigh of relief slipping silently between unintentionally pouted lips. He wouldn't have minded had the sheets been slept in, not that he would ever let Zoro know that, but fresh sheets were always comforting.

"I'd sure as hell hope they're clean. No one in their right fucking mind wants to sleep in a bed filled with your sweaty neanderthal stench and fluids anyways." The blonde muttered, ignoring Zoro's snarl, and instead choosing to focus his attention on the unexplored portion of the apartment by throwing the bedroom door open, almost expecting it to be as barren as the rest of the rooms had been. But the bedroom at least felt lived in, clothes strewn lazily over the floor in haphazard piles, protein powder stacked precariously in the corner seeming ready to spill over the floor at any given moment and an unmade mattress lying on the floor in the corner, fresh sheets sitting unfolded in a heap in the middle.

Sanji blinked as he looked at the mattress, his eyes sliding shut and his hand wandering up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he had even noticed. He could feel Zoro watching him in veiled concern but he was about ready to smack that look off the shitty marimo's face when he just sighed, understanding the neanderthal was not likely to understand why he was upset in the first place. At least a mattress on the floor was sure to be a hell of a lot more comfortable that the piece of shit hospital bed he had just spent the past couple days sleeping uncomfortably on, that was a plus. Fingers fumbling quickly in his shirt pocket, the blonde snagged a cigarette from the box and fished out his lighter, the flame flickering against the tobacco for a moment before he took a deep drag in. The familiar comforting burn in his lungs seemed to momentarily soothe his nerves, Sanji savoring each puff before blowing them out slowly, watching the smoke float lazily in midair as it dissipated gradually. Another sigh stole through his lips as Sanji wandered over to the bedside, staring down at the rumpled pile of mint colored sheets. He considered the notion of putting off making the bed until later but he knew postponing it would only serve to rile him up further over the inopportune sleeping arrangement and abandoned the thought, kneeling down to grab the fitted sheet and cursing the green haired bastard for simply standing in the doorway, watching.

By the time he had finished making the bed and exploring the rest of the apartment —not that there had really been that much else to see— he made his way back into the kitchen to see Zoro standing over the stove, panic written on his features as he stared at the dark tendrils of smoke creeping out of the corners of the oven door. His eyes darted towards Sanji as he heard the blonde's footsteps approaching but his attention was drawn back to the smoke almost immediately as a loud beeping filled the air. Sanji cursed loudly and ran to the front door, throwing it open wide before pushing Zoro out of the way and opening the oven door, his face covered slightly by his shirt as the trapped smoke was freed. The blonde wasn't quite sure as to origins of the thoroughly charred pieces of meat that sat inside, but what he did know was that they were no longer edible nor could they be considered food at this point so he began to scrape them into the garbage, a grimace on his face as he considered the wastefulness of the situation. Zoro could see the conflicted look on Sanji's face as he mentally waged war on himself over his undying love of the kitchen and the swordsman decided to throw curlybrow a line in order to avoid him sinking into another depressive state.

"There's some more ingredients in the refrigerator but not enough for me to be able to make anything worthwhile. Why don't you take a crack at making dinner? We all know you can make decent food appear out of basically nothing..." Sanji turned towards the green haired bastard, an incredulous look briefly gracing his features before he regained his composure, his mind still at war with itself but feeling slightly less conflicted. Of course Zoro wouldn't be able to cook himself anything, he was a real bull in a China shop when it came to working in the kitchen, but Sanji could still feel a bit of doubt about cooking anything for them. After all, it had been months since the allegations that had stripped him of his job, his income, and his pride but Sanji still felt uncomfortable at the thought of cooking, at the thought of trying to return to his previous normal state. As if Zoro could sense the blonde's mental struggle, he slapped a hand down onto Sanji's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze before wandering off into the living room. "You've got this, dartbrow, it's just a little bit of food."

Sanji's eyes followed the swordsman as he left the room, panic flashing hastily in his ocean blue eyes before he silently reprimanded himself and focused on the task at hand. He was half tempted to throw a quip back at Zoro, he hadn't needed the caveman's shitty confirmation of his culinary abilities, but a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he turned towards the fridge. Time to show the green haired bastard what he could really do in the kitchen, choice ingredients or not, he wasn't about to back down from a blatant challenge of his abilities. But as he opened the fridge, he realized Zoro hadn't been exaggerating when he said he barely had any ingredients, just the basics like milk, eggs, salt, pepper, and butter. A couple packs of bacon were hidden inside one of the lower drawers as well as a lone scraggly bell pepper and, to Sanji's disgust, a long since expired bunch of grapes, their pungent moldy scent almost making the blonde gag as he rushed to throw it in the outside trash can. Returning inside, he found Zoro staring curiously at him from the living room doorway and Sanji couldn't resist telling him off.

"For not having much food to eat, how did you manage to leave those grapes in there for so long? They'd grown their own fucking ecosystem, shitty marimo." He shot a glance at the swordsman to ensure that his message was getting across and watched as Zoro just nonchalantly scratched the back of his head. "Fucking clean that shit up yourself next time, asshole. I don't want to see your wasted moldy ass food anymore." Sanji turned around to return to his preparations at the same time Zoro grumbled something rude sounding, but by the time Sanji had swung back around to confront him, the swordsman was already heading back into the living room.

Shrugging at the avoided conflict, he returned to preparations, deciding that breakfast foods were about as much as he was going to be able to scrape together from the sparse ingredients he'd been given to work with. Smiling to himself, he set to work breaking eggs swiftly into a bowl before whisking in milk and seasonings, making sure they were thoroughly blended before setting the bowl off to the side. Sparking up another cigarette, he began to separate the bacon slices from each other and laid them side by side in a frying pan, careful to avoid the popping grease when he could, muttering harshly under his breath when he couldn't, until the bacon was at an acceptable crispness. He lightly dabbed at the bacon with a paper towel before stacking the half of the bacon onto a cutting board, the rest safely placed off on a paper towel covered plate to absorb the extra grease and avoid making a mess. After rough chopping the bacon and throwing it into the bowl of eggs, he stirred them slightly and poured half of the egg mixture back into the greased frying pan, waiting a few moments before flipping the newly made omelet over so as to let it cook evenly. Sanji gently folded the first omelet and pulled it off the heat, readying the pan for the remaining eggs when movement caught his eye.

Zoro stood in the kitchen behind him, eyes glued to the chef's as his hand twitched, frozen right next to the plate of bacon slices which he had obviously been pilfering, if the glistening oiliness of his lips were any indication. They continued to lock eyes until the swordsman's stomach decided to interrupt them with a fierce growl, Zoro's cheeks tinting slightly as he snatched another piece of bacon, embarrassed eyes seeming to dare Sanji to try and take it from him as he backed his way out of the room. Sanji let him go, eyes sparkling with amusement at the sight of the chagrined marimo, before returning to making the last omelet and, after accidentally discovering a loaf of bread tucked away in what Sanji had initially assumed to be the silverware drawer, added some toast to their breakfast themed meal.

After scouring around for another couple minutes, Sanji discovered a container of paper plates as well as plastic silverware in the same cabinet and set about building their plates before bringing them out to the living room where Zoro sat absently in the middle of the floor, eyes shut tight. But when the hot plate of food was unceremoniously dropped in front of him, his good eye peeled open and he immediately set in on the food, not bothering to offer thanks but instead choosing to stuff his face as fast as possible in order to return to his meditations. Sanji sighed, unsure of what he had hoped to happen, and made himself comfortable up against the wall behind the swordsman before digging into the plain meal himself. He was so entranced by the thought of finally getting something other than hospital grub in his stomach that he almost missed Zoro's hushed comment. Almost.

"The food was edible, thanks."

Sani couldn't seem to wipe the resulting smirk from his face.

 **Hey ya'll! So I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it these past couple days :)**  
 **I'd love to see whatever comments yall have for me so if you don't mind reviewing I would really appreciate it, I always feel so happy when someone takes the time to tell me what they think or how they felt! I will def try to have the next chapter out soon ya'll, thank you for being patient with me!**


	5. Chapter 5: Final Chapter

By the time Zoro had rested his head into the crook of his arm, he was already drifting off into sleep, slightly comforted by the thought of the blonde laying safely several feet away but overwhelmed still by the events of the past several days. Brief images flashed before his eyes as he vividly recalled clutching Sanji's bleeding form against his chest, the heavy metallic scent of the blood almost seeming to flood through his mouth and nose as he desperately tried to brush the memories away from the forefront of his thoughts. Images and sensations continued to assault him however, visions of Sanji's lifelessly pale face as the EMT hurried him into the ambulance, the intense waves of hopeless fear that crashed into his very core as he realized there was nothing further he could do to help the blonde maintain his waning grasp on life, how vehemently he had wished he could have taken the blonde's pain and suffering into himself at the time.

Darkness swirled all around, engulfing him in its inky depths as Zoro tried to regain control of his mind, to escape from the onslaught of traumatic imagery his slumbering subconscious seemed intent on throwing his way. He struggled to clear his head and escape from the nightmares grasp, but as the mental assault continued its constant barrage, even he could tell that something was different. Something didn't feel right, a nagging sensation of having overlooked something very important tugged at the very fiber of his being, the haunting images only serving to further solidify this theory. Everything felt wrong and distant, as though his reality was but a mere glimpse of the universe's truth but as he flailed about, he could feel sleep's grasp on him beginning to wane. It was a few more moments until his eye flew open, panicked sweat trickling down his side and onto the hardwood floor upon which he had rested. He allowed his gaze to slowly wander the room, mentally willing his heartbeat to return to a comfortable pace as his pulse pounded rapidly in his ears, but as his eye landed upon his empty bed nearby, Zoro felt his heart seem to freeze for a moment at the realization.

Sanji was gone.

Blind panic rushed through Zoro's mind and it took a good minute of frantically glancing around the room before he realized he could see the light from the bathroom shining along the edges of the darkened hallway. He could feel his initial panic waning as he came to grasp the blonde's location, however the panic inside him was slowly being replaced by a cold unsettling fear sitting thick and heavy in his stomach at the familiarity of the situation at hand. If something else happened to Sanji, under the marimo's own roof none the less, he knew there would be no chance of forgiving himself. With a growing uncertainty gnawing anxiously at his insides, he stood up and made his way to the hallway, pausing momentarily in the doorway to peer down the hall towards the restroom. He shuffled silently up to the bathroom door and paused again for a few moments, listening for any signs of distress before, hesitantly, his hand floated up to gently rap upon the wood. A few tense seconds passed before the door creaked open, Sanji's wary face peering through the crack in the door as he stared out at the partially clothed swordsman, apprehension and irritation coating his face in even parts.

"Can I help you? Or have you just come to bother me while I try to take a piss?" Zoro felt his face flush momentarily in shame, his fear dissipating as he realized how this would look to the blonde if he were to bother trying to explain himself. He instead found himself pushing his way past curlybrow into the bathroom, one steely briefly flitting over the incredulous expression that flashed through Sanji's oceanic eyes before he focused his attention fully onto the toilet. He could hear Sanji huffing in disbelief at the sudden intrusion, and instead decided to focus on relieving his bladder, the splashing of his stream inside the bowl serving to alleviate some of his stress along with the flow of urine.

"It's my bathroom, asshole, if I want to use it you can't fucking stop me." Zoro smirked to himself, slightly proud that he'd covered his tracks and avoided seeming nervous in front of the ex-chef. He could still feel Sanji's eyes boring into the back of his head as he shook off the small remaining droplets of urine but it just took a small sigh and a few choice words to jostle him back into an uncomfortable state of mind.

"What are we doing, Zoro?" Sanji's voice sounded almost defeated and, with a quick glance in the mirror, Zoro saw him rubbing his temples, delicate fingers gently working circles as his furrowed swirled eyebrows peered out from above. The marimo could feel the anxious knot tightening within his stomach as the blonde continued. "It feels like we're some shitty little kids playing house, just trying to forget our own lives and make believe like we're happy and functional in our new 'reality' we've constructed. But I really don't think we can handle this anymore." Zoro turned around to face the blonde, worry heavily etched across his features as he met Sanji's saddened gaze. "I don't think you can handle this anymore..." Sanji's voice had dropped to almost a whisper and every word seemed to send dangerously cold shivers along Zoro's spine, warning signals blaring through his thoughts.

"What are you talking about? I thought... I'd hoped maybe things were getting a little better at least?" Zoro spoke tentatively, his thoughts in mild disarray. Sanji sighed heavily and reached his left hand up to brush his fingers through his flaxen locks when something in Zoro's mind clicked and his hand reached out, instinctively grasping the blonde's wrist and pulling it towards himself, turning it over with a quizzical expression on his face. "Sanji... Where is your bandage?" Confusion coated his expression as he stared blankly down at the smooth skin of the ex-chef's wrist, unblemished and seemingly untouched. "Sanji?" The green haired bastard's head whipped up, his steel grey eye searching for answers within the blonde's deep azure gaze but only spying what looked like doleful sympathy sprinkled in together with what may have been regret.

"Zoro, why are you bothering to ask questions we both know the fucking answer to?" Sanji snapped back at the swordsman in a hushed tone, snatching his hand back and rubbing his fingers lightly over the smooth skin. Zoro continued to stare at the space the blonde's hand had previously occupied, his mind tried to process his surroundings but only succeeded in making his confusion more tangibly agitated. What was Sanji referring to, what was he was missing that supposedly he already knew? Questions seemed to drag through his mind haltingly as though trudging through the thick, viscous slime his emotions felt they had congealed into and Zoro found himself staring blankly into Sanji's eyes, dumbfounded and lost like a mere child. Sanji leaned forward, a wistful smile gracing his lips as he tenderly scooped Zoro's face into the palms of his hands and began to whisper sighingly.

"Zoro, its time you remembered the truth and stopped playing make believe. You can't keep lying to yourself. You moss-headed bastard, we both fucking know I never made it to that hospital alive."

Chopper's words flitted through Zoro's mind rapidly as his thoughts swirled chaotically. _"I know that I can't fix this, but is there anything I can do for you? I hate seeing you both like this... Seeing Sanji like... this..."_ Sanji lying there still, so eerily serene on his gentle bed of white, his skin delicately transparent in its paleness. How cool his hand had been when Zoro had cradled it to his cheek, how he had stayed by Sanji's side as they tried to remove his body from the room, fighting violently with the nurses when he wasn't allowed to follow them into the morgue and his subsequent screaming removal from said morgue.

Reality and fiction meshed together harshly, memories and falsities clashing against each other and only the indomitable perception of death and loss came through with clarity. _"He's on a mandatory 72-hour hold until we can determine if he is in a safe enough state of mind to be released but..."_ Spoken about, not to. Nothing seemed to make sense anymore and Zoro could almost feel himself breaking inside, his emotions reaching their absolute peak into nothingness as cold hands seemed to grasp the back of his consciousness and drag him above himself. He could see himself slinking to his knees in an empty bathroom, his body curling forward onto the floor as dry sobs racked his pitiful form. His face pressed against the cold stone ground of the bathroom, a grotesque mask of anguish frozen on his features.

Everything feels so empty when you're truly alone and sometimes as long as you wholeheartedly believe it, a lie can be truth, if only just to you.

 **AN: So I had written a good bit of this earlier in October but the file got fucked up and I lost the chapter which kinda bummed me out so it took a while for me to convince myself to rewrite it, but here we go :)**


	6. Chapter 6: Homecoming

Sometimes you never notice how truly alone you are in this world until tragedy strikes and there's no one around to care enough to sweep up the shattered shards of your soul. And other times, too many people try to help and those shards of your happiness are distributed through the crowd, never really making their way back to your empty husk of a soul. But it is the times where your soul blocks out the truth of the matter with its own heavy coating of false beliefs that can be the most worrisome.

A young man sat alone in his small padded room, his voice no higher than a whisper as he spoke of adventures and experiences shared between him and his other half, who sat diligently in the corner of the room, listening but never able to respond. His green hair had grown long and unkempt in the time he had spent alone, requests for razors or even scissors had all been left unanswered, and his bright silver eye had grown dull and lackluster. Training had stopped being a priority to him since his reality had shattered and he had thinned significantly in the time since he couldn't seem to bring himself to care about much of anything.

The blonde knew it was his fault that the marimo has wound up in such a state of despondency, but it's funny how these sorts of things are only visible in retrospect. The cold embrace of death he had eagerly craved had destroyed those close to him, some significantly more than others, he thought, his eyes trailing over Zoro's thinning frame. The man hadn't been eating as much lately, not that he could blame him for not eating the vile slop the institution deemed qualified as "food", but it still sent prickles of guilt coursing through his apparition. Sanji regretted telling Zoro the truth about his death, longing painfully for things to go back to how they were when the marimo could interact with his ghostly form but he knew that Zoro would have realized the truth himself eventually. That realization could have cost the green haired bastard far more than his sanity and, for that, Sanji was glad he'd shattered that illusion, although he dearly missed being able to interact with him posthumously.

Zoro had become unable to see him since the blonde had crashed through the false reality of their happy go lucky fantasy life together and it killed Sanji to know the marimo could no longer feel the touch of his hands. Attempts to comfort him had become futile, always met with that beautiful steel eye growing cold and distant as the touch seemed to trap the marimo in his own personal hell as he watched Sanji die in his arms endlessly. Reliving countless ways of how he could have maybe prevented the inevitable death and lived in bliss with the blonde curled up safely in his arms, only to crash back through the barrier of reality and back into his dreary existence in this room. He seemed to float aimlessly about the room, speaking mostly to himself as he recounted their tales of adventure but Sanji always listened closely, reliving those times through the marimo's carefully chosen wordplay.

It's funny how when you're alive, the idea of ending it all and finally being able to escape into Death's embrace seems so charming, only for regret to claw its way through your mind as you actually lay slipping into the unforgiving release of the afterlife. You never wish for life harder than when it slips from your grasp, and in that moment, Sanji had realized his mistake all too late. He didn't truly want to die, he just wanted the reality of his situation to go away and allow him to become his former self. The cessation of his life had wound up for naught as he found himself trapped in the reality of having to watch his friends, lovers, coworkers all grieve for him separately. Some turned to drinking to dull the pain of his departure, others seemed unaffected by more than mild guilt when thoughts of him drifted into their minds, and there were those who seemed to have become mere husks of who they had previously been as though they themselves had died at the moment of the blonde's own death. He desperately regretted with every fiber of his non-being that he had been so hasty about ending it all and had not sought help, but you can't change the past.

As Sanji floated about, his mind dwelling in his regret, he failed to notice the change in Zoro's demeanor. The young marimo stood and stared at his bed with a purpose before yanking the sheets off and going to work. He had begun to tear thin strips from his bedsheets and was braiding them together when Sanji took notice of his actions. Alarm bells rang out in Sanji's mind as he saw the thin wisp of a smile grace the corner of Zoro's mouth and his eyes looked less hollow but more distant than he remembered, as though gazing off into the future. It was when the green haired bastard began to weave the braided sheets into an all too familiar shape that Sanji felt his incorporeal blood almost seem to freeze inside him. He tried, unsuccessfully, to smack the makeshift rope out of Zoro's hands, growing more and more desperate and frustrated at every failed attempt. When the marimo stood abruptly, his eye trailing the ceiling in muted disappointment before landing on the bars of the lone window in his cell, Sanji could feel an anguished cry tear its way up his throat as he threw himself between Zoro and the window. Desperately pleading, Sanji tried to keep the green haired bastard away, but he seemed unaffected by the blonde's beseeching attempts as he moved through Sanji's intangible form and began to weave the sheets through the bars, tugging on them every so often to test their strength. Sanji's pleading lead into screams of anguish as the marimo slipped the makeshift noose over his head and secured it around his neck with a sigh of what seemed to be relief. Steeling his resolve, Zoro looked up at the ceiling almost in prayer as he opened his mouth to speak.

"I'm coming home now. You won't be alone for long, Sanji... I promise..."

It was then Zoro allowed his body to drop, the noose snapping tightly around his neck and harsh gurgles tearing their way through his throat as his body struggled to keep itself alive. Sanji fervently screamed and his hands fumbled desperately at the rope, growing increasingly anguished as they repeatedly slipped through the knotted fabric. He sobbed harshly as he continued to fumble with the fabric, begging Zoro to stand up and save himself as the young marimo seemed to convulse against the wall, his eye rolling up seeming to land on Sanji's agonized face. Recognition dawned in that eye and Zoro reached out, trying to cradle the blonde's cheek in his palm before his eye fully rolled back into his head and the hand dropped back to his side, unmoving. Sanji's screams echoed harshly in his own ears as he tried to shake the green haired bastard awake, praying to any unknown entity to intervene and save him but his pleas remained unanswered as he watched the fluttering of Zoro's chest grow still until his heart finally stopped beating entirely.

A nurse coming to check up on Zoro peered into the room and harshly gasped before tearing open the door and yelling for assistance as she began to undo the knots holding the marimo's limp body to the window bars, but Sanji knew it was too late. He could see Zoro's new shimmering form emerge from his body and come towards him, hands tentatively reaching out to touch Sanji's shoulder before pulling him close, relief evident on his face as he was finally able to clutch the blonde to his chest again. Sanji's cries began to wane but he reached up and pushed Zoro away, his fists balled up as he began to beat them against any part of the green haired bastard that he could reach in anguished despair. The blonde knew this was all his fault but he continued to strike at Zoro although his strength was beginning to fade out and he eventually collapsed upon the ground crying.

Zoro's steel grey eye watched him gently, understanding and remorseful, and after a moment he scooped the blonde up into his arms again, still relieved he was able to clutch his most important person close to him again. He knew he had hurt the blonde but at the same time he felt solaced at the thought of no longer living his life as a shell of a person. He may have hurt others with his passing, but he wasn't alone anymore, Zoro thought as he gently stroked the head of the now sobbing Sanji. Absently, he watched the nurses and caretakers try to revive him for a good while, admiring and silently thanking them for the amount of effort they put in, before his death was finally called by a resident doctor that had arrived.

Time of Death: 3:54 pm


End file.
